


Model Behavior

by danceswithgary



Series: Screen Savor [6]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Photography, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-10-17
Updated: 2009-10-17
Packaged: 2017-10-04 01:34:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/danceswithgary/pseuds/danceswithgary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"That's funny. I always thought not wearing any clothes meant you were nude."  Set in the <i>Screen Savor</i> 'verse, but may be read as standalone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Model Behavior

It had been a long week filled with required quarterly inspections and the associated paperwork, new arrival orientations, and an emergency extraction for one of the gate teams. As a result, John's twice-postponed training session with Ronon had run late. The sun hung low in the sky, slanting orange-gold across the room, transforming the rumpled bed to sunset-colored mountains and shadowed valleys as he walked out of the steam-filled bathroom. After a final scruff across his chest and belly, he tossed his damp towel in the general direction of the hamper and then headed toward the dresser for clean clothes.

A low voice brought him spinning around in a slight crouch. "Don't get dressed."

Slowly straightening from his defensive position, John shook his head sheepishly. "You're getting entirely too good at that."

"And you're the one who keeps reminding me to look in the corners of a room before I walk inside." With a gloating smile, Rodney emerged from the shadows by the desk. He held up his camera and gestured toward the bed. "I want you there, just as you are. On your stomach, looking toward the window, head on your crossed arms."

Intrigued by Rodney's brusque directions, John propped a hand on his hip and allowed one eyebrow to play the role of question mark. "I thought you weren't really into taking nude pictures."

"I'm not." Rodney huffed in exasperation, grabbing John's free hand to tug him toward the waiting bed. "Now hurry up. That light's not going to last forever."

John frowned at the evasion, but allowed Rodney to force him down across the sun-gilded sheets, glad that it was warmer than usual in the room. "That's funny. I always thought not wearing any clothes meant you were nude."

"I'm not going to allow you to distract me by arguing about definitions." Nudging John's legs apart, Rodney then angled John's hips enough to allow a slightly bent knee, fractionally opening that side to the light. John's enjoyment of the experience took him by surprise; the languid pleasure of relaxing into Rodney's hands, obeying the firm yet gentle touches and soft-voiced instructions - all while Rodney remained fully clothed - leaving his nerve endings sensitized, his body awash with a low thrum of arousal.

"Perfect. Don't move." Rodney conveyed his satisfaction with a caress across John's shoulders, thankfully too light to stimulate him any further. He was already finding it difficult not to simply roll over and pull Rodney down to cover him, and he didn't want to ruin Rodney's new game. Still wondering about the ultimate goal, a faint click from the vicinity of his feet tempted John to lift his head enough to peek.

Rodney made it clear how he felt about John's curiosity. "I said, 'Don't move'! How hard can that be?"

With a frustrated growl, John lowered his head, muttering under his breath, "Hard is the damn problem."

With an edge of irritation sharpening his voice, Rodney insisted, "I want you relaxed. Just close your eyes and stay still, and I promise that I'll make it up to you." A few light taps on a keyboard and John's favorite acoustic guitar soloist began playing, a compromise between 'The Man in Black' and Rodney's symphonies. Slowing his breathing to the sultry rhythm, John followed Rodney's instructions, allowing his eyes to close and his muscles to unclench and soften as the music concealed the faint noise of the camera.

Under the influence of his earlier exercise, a hot shower, and the soothing melody, John began to drift toward sleep. A quiet, "keep your eyes closed and roll this way," barely roused him and he remained pliant under Rodney's hands as he positioned John flat on his back, one hand under his head and the other tucked partly under a fold of the sheet. Another song and Rodney returned to gently urge John to his other side, his upper leg slightly flexed for balance.

Floating on the edge of a dream, John heard a sigh and a disappointed, "The light's gone." He recognized the click of the desk lamp, the rustle of clothing, and then the bed dipped under a familiar weight. Rodney whispered, "Stay like that," and his hand prevented John from rolling to face him.

"I've wanted to do that for a while now. Sometimes you turn your head a certain way or raise your arm, bend your knee or elbow and I see a line, a shadow, a curve that's perfect for just an instant and I want to keep it for myself." A broad palm smoothed its way down John's arm to his hand, then moved it a few inches to rest on his outer thigh. Continuing from there, a finger traced the back of John's leg to press into the tender hollow behind his knee. "There is skin that is softer, thin and pale enough to show the veins just beneath that need to be kept safe from harm." Reversing direction, the touch ruffled upwards against rough hair until it became intimate. "Then there are the hidden places, where no one should touch you except me."

"God, Mer." Unable to stay still any longer, John groaned and shifted his leg to grant Rodney easier access. He cupped John, rolling his prize gently as he placed a soft kiss on the point of John's hip. Three more measured out a few inches higher following the slight dip to John's waist, Rodney's torturously slow pace forcing a protest. "You're killing me here."

Rodney evaded a clumsy grab, chuckling as he licked along the lowest rib to John's back, removing his teasing hand to press John onto his stomach. "I'm taking my time and enjoying my favorite places. It'd be much easier if you stayed wherever I put you." He straddled John's thighs keeping them closed, using his weight to keep John from moving as he leaned forward to mouth the knobs of John's spine, sucking each one lightly before moving to the next.

John clenched fistfuls of pillow as Rodney reached the top and gently bit down on the soft flesh, bucking against the mattress in a futile attempt to relieve the aching pressure that increased with every touch of Rodney's lips. As Rodney licked his way across to the hollow below John's ear, it finally became too much and he jerked upward, startling Rodney and freeing himself enough to flip to his back.

Rodney frowned down at John. "I probably should have tied you."

"Wanted my turn." John curled up and pulled Rodney down to meet his mouth, opening slightly to taste. Rodney let him have his way for only a few moments before pushing him back down, catching John's wrists and forcing them above his head. Before John could object, he bent to lick across John's lips and then pressed down hot and wet, demanding entrance. John let him in, catching the tip of Rodney's tongue with his teeth before granting him deeper access. He also rubbed against Rodney wherever he could, the rough scrape of hair as welcome as the glide of smooth skin. Tugging his hands free, he wrapped his arms around Rodney to bring him even closer.

Pulling back from John's insistent mouth, Rodney grumbled, "I wonder if other photographers have this much trouble with their subjects following directions."

"I'm a subject now? Are you declaring yourself king?" John narrowed his eyes in mock affront before breaking into laughter. "Vive la revolution!"

Rodney rolled his eyes in disdain. "Your accent is appalling." He lowered his head to nip along John's jaw, the scrape of teeth against the day's stubble sending a pleasant shiver down John's spine and renewing his efforts. With a resigned sigh, Rodney finally surrendered and began to move in delicious counterpoint, his kisses changing to tender and sweet.

The battle won, John was willing to linger, his initial urgency settling into slow rocking and gentle pressure, an almost imperceptible drag and glide. With soft lips, he shared breath with Rodney, tasting the lingering bitterness of coffee and long days. His release was quiet, rolling through him in slow waves that left him pleasantly drained. Equally silent, Rodney relaxed against him after a few more strokes through the warmth spreading across John's belly.

After a minute or two, Rodney shifted to the side, relieving John of his weight despite John's grumbled protest. He settled for dragging Rodney's arm over his chest and pressing into Rodney's warm side instead of attempting to extricate the rumpled sheet and blanket from beneath them. Turning his head, he nuzzled Rodney's jaw, and then kissed him under his ear. Unable to resist, he teased, "Hi, honey. How was your day?"

Rodney grunted and shifted in mild annoyance. "You're harshing my mellow, dude, and now I'm hungry."

John pulled back to stare at Rodney. "Harshing your…." John couldn't continue. The devilish gleam in Rodney's eyes was unmistakable and completely irresistible.

The last remnants of the week's frustrations washed away in shared laughter.  


**Author's Note:**

> Entry for mcsmooch. djaddict supplied me with the prompt: Slow, dirty and sweet! I combined it with hyperfocused's prompt: I want relieved passion. Not necessarily of the "you almost died", but more a slow, this is what I needed, sort of thing. De-stressing.


End file.
